


Ice

by Johannas_Motivational_Insults



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Gen, platonic echo/roan, pre-becho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2018-12-20 20:25:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11928597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johannas_Motivational_Insults/pseuds/Johannas_Motivational_Insults
Summary: Amid the chaos following the destruction of the City of Light, Echo reflects on how her humanity slipped away while serving under Queen Nia.





	1. In Your Veins

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is basically my elaborate headcanons regarding Echo's backstory and relationships with the other Azgedean characters, and how it all intertwines with the Azgeda/Trikru conflict. It seeks to provide a basis for various characters' actions and personalities, given the lack of character building for Azgedean characters in canon. Each chapter begins with a clip from a season 4 scene and flashes back to related events in Echo's past.
> 
> This is a companion fic to Building Trust, my Becho time jump fic. But it also works as a standalone fic, and you don't need to read the other one to get it. However, they are intended to be in the same universe. This is a prologue of sorts and also serves to flesh out things I only have space to hint at in Building Trust, while Building Trust further illustrates the effects of Echo's trauma and ties it into her budding relationship with Bellamy.
> 
> WARNING: There is some capital D Dark Shit in this fic. Anyone who's read my stuff before knows I'm all about that angst, no fluff, but this is especially bad. Before you go accusing me of being a sick fuck, it's Queen Nia's Azgeda, and everything I have included (and will include in later chapters) has its roots in canon. Content warnings for scenes of violence, non-graphic depictions of physical and emotional child abuse, graphic depictions of torture, and vague discussions of the sexual exploitation of a minor.
> 
> A final note: To avoid having to include a bunch of translations or force the readers to ping pong between the fic and the Trigedasleng dictionary, all dialogue in the flashbacks is written in English. You can assume that the bilingual characters are speaking to each other in either English or Trig unless otherwise specified.

Months after her return from Mount Weather, Echo still catches people staring at her in amazement. Few of them brave or stupid enough to speak to her, they whisper among themselves. But she’s a spy. She hears things. They wonder how she could have survived it. Being stuffed in a cage for weeks on end, given only the bare minimum of food and water to keep her alive and producing valuable blood. Whenever anyone does dare ask to her face, she says a desire for vengeance was what kept her going. The truth is, she had survived much worse. And someone gave her hope.

That someone is standing before her now, jaw set defensively as he stares her down, eyes screaming what he won’t say aloud. _Traitor, traitor._ Because that’s undoubtedly what he sees. He doesn’t see how she saved him and his sister, doesn’t know the punishment she endured for deviating from the plan to do so. For getting Roan arrested in the process.

“Before you say anything,” starts Echo, “remember I saved your life by taking you out of Mount Weather. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you to bring the girl, but I was following orders, Bellamy.” She couldn’t have risked saying anything that would hint at the Mountain’s impending destruction. Going off-book at all was dangerous, as a failure would then be attributed to her. She would have died a traitor’s death. And it was hardly Echo’s fault Bellamy’s girlfriend was no warrior and would have been useless in a potential fight scenario.

“I wish it was that easy,” Bellamy replies, the lingering grief clear in his voice.

After all she’s had to do to stay alive, Echo rarely feels guilt anymore, but she recognizes it as the emotion eating at her gut in this moment. Not guilt for having killed, but for having hurt Bellamy. Bellamy who took her place in the harvest chamber, Bellamy who came back to free her. Back when they were allies. When they could be allies.

“I know how it feels to lose someone you care about to war,” Echo tells him, hoping he can sense her sincerity, “but we do what we do for our people. You slaughter us, we slaughter you. That all went away in the City of Light, but it’s back now.” 

The City of Light may have been a trap for their minds, but it had its virtues too. Echo hadn’t known what she could even be without pain or violence, but as it turned out, she was happy. Her last trip inside the city, she and Ontari were strolling through a park, sipping fancy drinks and chatting about some cute boy Ontari was hooking up with. Before Ontari had to return to the real world and never made it back. Echo can’t help but wonder what could have become of that poor girl had Nia never discovered her, had she not been abused and turned into a killing machine. Like Echo was.

Ontari is the latest casualty of war in Echo’s life, but she’s far from the first. And like all of them, she died at the hands of Skaikru or Trikru.

Staring Bellamy down with that thought fresh in her mind, she states, “So here we are.”

***

Echo was nine years old when the world collapsed around her, when a messenger knocked on her door and gave her the news: her parents weren’t coming home. They were both killed in battle when Trikru assassins attacked their battalion near Polis, or so she was told. She knew how to take care of herself, the fruits of having two frequently absent warriors for parents, but the money they’d left her only lasted for so long. The neighbors who knew to check on Echo every few days while her parents were deployed had little to spare either. She wound up begging for food or odd jobs on street corners, and that’s where she first caught the eye of one of Queen Nia’s recruiters.

At the time, Echo couldn’t believe her luck. Pulled from the gutter into the royal compound, she was offered food and shelter and training as a warrior, with a chance to become a member of the elite Royal Guard. All the queen asked was one thing in return: Echo’s undying loyalty. With no other ties, she gave it without hesitation. She knows now that there’s a reason the Royal Guard is comprised almost exclusively of former young orphans: they are malleable and will fall in line easier when given somewhere to belong. Ontari was proof enough of the other side of that equation.

With this new purpose, the young Echo threw herself into training with an unmatched fervor. Her competitive spirit was much of what drove her, but praise from the queen was always good for extra motivation. It was easy for her to earn, too, as her parents had already been teaching her swordplay and archery before they died. Her father was infantry and her mother an archer, and she hadn’t wanted to choose.

So impressed was Queen Nia with the multi-skilled recruit, within a year Echo was promoted to the Royal Guard. She was obscenely young for the job, but that was part of Nia’s reasoning: people often speak loosely around children, as though they aren’t there. And few would suspect a child her age of being an elite warrior or a spy.

After combat training one afternoon, Echo was summoned to the throne room, where she found the queen seated and flanked by her teenaged sons. Echo had seen the princes around the compound and obviously knew who they were, but she had never been formally introduced.

“My queen,” Echo greeted her monarch as she took a knee. “How can I be of service?”

“Rise,” Nia ordered her. Once Echo was on her feet, she gestured at the young warrior and addressed her sons. “Roan, Toro, meet the newest member of the Royal Guard.” Hearing Toro’s snicker to her right, her voice went colder as she continued, “Her name is Echo, and like all the Royal Guardians, she has vowed to protect you with her life. She should be treated with the same respect as any of the others.”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” scoffed Toro. “This little kid’s going to protect us? From what, the mosquitos?”

Subservient as she was to the queen, Echo had a vast reserve of pride underneath that, and it took a great deal of willpower to refrain from promising to kick Toro’s ass. Luckily for her, Queen Nia shot her a knowing smirk and nodded his way. Needing no further prompting, Echo whipped out her sword and advanced on the boy. Taken back, he ended up on his heels as he drew his own sword to parry her ferocious jabs. When he took a wild swing to fend her off, Echo ducked under his arm and tackled him. No sooner was he on his back than her sword was at his throat.

“Thank you, Echo, for that demonstration,” said the queen, her satisfaction at the spectacle blatantly obvious. “Prince Toro, it seems you could use this Guardian’s protection after all.”

Suppressing a triumphant smirk, Echo stood and offered the prince a hand up, a hand he ignored as he got up with a scowl. “Whatever,” he grumbled. “I wasn’t ready.”

“You should always be ready,” interjected Roan, speaking Echo’s thoughts aloud. “That’s the point.” As Echo returned to her place before the throne, she noticed the usually impassive prince wearing a look of vague amusement at his brother’s expense. “How about you let her take over as my sparring partner? I might actually break a sweat.”

“Shut up, Roan,” snapped Toro.

“Enough,” declared Nia, silencing them both. “Echo, do you have anything to say to the princes before you are dismissed?”

Making eye contact with each boy, Echo promised, “Only that I will show you the same undying loyalty I have vowed to your mother.” Toro rolled his eyes at this, while Roan accepted it with a silent nod and intrigued eyes.

“Good,” the queen replied brusquely. “Leave us.”

Echo’s second meeting with Roan came only days later, when he showed up unannounced near the end of one of her swordplay lessons. After observing the final few minutes in silence from the doorway, he raised an eyebrow as she neared the exit after being dismissed. “I wasn’t joking, you know,” he said. At her furrowed brow, he clarified, “You should spar with me.”

Echo blinked in surprise. “Why?”

“Because you’ve got balls, kid. And I think I can teach you a thing or two.”

Standing there in Roan’s shadow, Echo sized him up. This was an entirely different proposition than rushing Toro unexpectedly. While Roan’s fifteen year-old brother was still very much a pimply adolescent, the crown prince was practically a full-grown man. Starting to fill out after his growth spurt, he sported spotty facial hair and an all but permanent frown that made him look much older than his seventeen years. Even then Echo was tall for her age, but he towered over her and she couldn’t help but feel intimidated, despite the goodwill he was projecting.

Considering his offer, Echo weighed the learning opportunity against her ego. She had a feeling she would rarely - if ever - be able to best Roan, and she hated losing. There was only one thing she hated more than losing, in fact.

“On one condition,” she answered, drawing another raised eyebrow from the prince. “You don’t let me win.”

That was the first time Echo ever saw Roan smile. “That won’t be a problem.”

And it wasn’t. It took Echo years to defeat Roan for the first time, but her constant losing became yet another driving force spurring her on to greatness. All that practice against a left-handed swordsman also proved useful for her development. She was never sure what Roan got out of the deal, though. Not until one day when he knocked the sword from her hands and she kicked it across the floor in frustration. As it clattered against the wall, he chastised her, “You still fight like a child.”

“I wonder why,” snapped Echo. Granted, she was a teenager now, but still very much a child compared to Roan. Though she was catching up in height, Roan had bulked up significantly in the last three years and was stronger than ever. More importantly, he had a certain unflappable maturity about him that Echo envied.

Scooping her sword off the floor, Roan extended it to his partner as he approached again. “Your passion is refreshing,” he admitted. “It’s nice to fight someone who gives a damn. Someone who won’t let me win because I’m the crown prince.”

Squinting at this revelation, Echo retrieved the weapon from Roan’s grasp. “Toro doesn’t let you beat him, does he?”

“No, but he’s awful and he doesn’t care. He’s content to hide behind the blades of the Guardians.”

“Other than mine,” grumbled Echo.

“Well, he’s foolish. You’re more skilled than half the Guard.” Echo snorted under her breath. Losing all the time had taken its toll on her confidence. Roan clapped a hand on her shoulder and insisted, “You are. The reason you keep losing is you can’t keep your cool.” Sighing heavily, Echo lifted her head to meet his gaze. “It’s great that you have such heart. But you can’t be all heart. You need to be able to stay calm under pressure. Ice in your veins.”

“And how do I do that?” The question didn’t come out as sassy as she’d hoped it would.

“I can read you like a book. Start with that.” Stepping back, Roan dragged a hand down his face and pulled the expression off with it. “Blank face. Bury your emotions so they can’t be used against you. And pay attention to your whole body. Control every part of it so you don’t give away your next move.”

Echo could manage the face part at least, if she focused. She’d already learned to mask her emotions in the wake of her disastrous first mission with the Guard, though her emotional state had admittedly been more volatile since then. She was hardly the same girl anymore.

In the months following Echo’s addition to the Guard, there was an increase in Reaper activity in Azgeda territory. More sightings, many more disappearances from the southern regions. Echo was called to the throne room and given a mission that seemed tailored to her: investigate how the Mountain Men controlled the Reapers and why they were kidnapping her people. Bilingual since infancy thanks to her two warrior parents, she was especially equipped to gather intelligence on the Mountain Men. Plus, only adults had been taken so far. Queen Nia hoped Echo may be somewhat immune to the Reapers and therefore able to get close while avoiding capture.

The idea terrified Echo, but more than anything she wanted to feel important and needed, so she accepted the mission with no protest. When it came time for her to depart, Queen Nia actually came to the stables to see her off. Cupping Echo’s cheek with something resembling a smile, she told her, “Remember, trust only Azgeda.”

“Yes, ma’am,” promised Echo.

Echo had never been outside Azgeda before, and infiltrating Trikru territory was particularly daunting. Their clans had been at war on and off for as long as she could remember. But Queen Nia was right about one thing: people didn’t find her suspicious at all. In fact, Trikru adults gave the unaccompanied child unsolicited warnings about where not to go if she wanted to avoid Reapers. They had to deal with Reapers more than any other clan, as the Mountain was in their territory, and they seemed to understand the creatures’ habits the best. No one knew why they had turned on their own people to work for the Mountain Men, though, or why they had devolved into such an animal-like state.

Based on some of this information, Echo soon discovered a maze of old train tunnels near the base of the Mountain. Some hours of exploring later, she came upon a door. “RESTRICTED AREA,” it read in English. “AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.” A glowing box with numbers sat beside it, probably some kind of locking mechanism. Climbing up on the hinges, Echo was able to peek inside the window high on the door, but could only see a bright white hallway. A nearby dumpster held several dead bodies. Some of them had bandages on their arms or necks, but otherwise they just looked starved. Echo went so far as to climb in the dumpster to examine the bodies closer, but couldn’t figure out what had been done to them or why.

Frustrated, Echo decided to keep exploring the tunnels for clues, and soon ran into a group of Reapers. As their rumbling chatter approached, she ducked into an alcove and waited for them to pass. Several prisoners were chained to a log and being marched along the train tracks, guarded by three Reapers. Echo held her breath as they passed, praying they wouldn’t see her. Once they were out of sight, she could follow them back to the door and observe the handoff, see if that gave any more clues.

As the last prisoner was passing, he glanced over and caught Echo’s eye. His pleading expression made her want to help, but that was not her job. Her job was to be invisible. And now his staring made even that impossible, catching the attention of the last Reaper. Before Echo realized she’d been caught, she was being ripped from the alcove. “Found another!” yelled the Reaper as he clamped a hand around her throat and lifted her high in the air. Her kicks to his body made him slam her up against the tunnel wall and hold her there by her neck.

Struggling for air, Echo was on the verge of passing out when another Reaper called out, “She’s too small! Don’t waste your time.”

The first Reaper glared at Echo and threw her down with a visceral growl. “You’d better run, little girl, or you’ll be our next snack.”

Terrified, she scrambled to her feet and bolted down the tracks. Only once she’d stopped to catch her breath did she remember her plan to observe the exchange. She could probably still catch up with the Reapers before they reached the door, but the thought of going back sent shivers down all her limbs and they refused to cooperate. She kept running instead.

When Echo arrived back at the royal compound days later and reported all she had seen, Queen Nia was far from impressed. “And what do you suggest we do with this information, Guardian? We’re not planning to invade the Mountain, and we already knew they don’t take children. Do you have anything useful to report?”

“That’s all I observed,” admitted Echo.

“Why didn’t you follow them back to the door to witness the prisoner handoff?” demanded Nia, freezing Echo in her icy gaze. When Echo failed to respond, her expression turned all the harsher. “You ran.”

Swallowing hard, Echo ducked her head. “Forgive me, my queen. I was afraid.”

“You shouldn’t be afraid of the Mountain Men, dear Echo. Or the Reapers. You should be afraid of failing me.”

Those words were barely out of the queen’s mouth when two pairs of hands grabbed Echo from behind, yanking her off her feet and throwing her to the ground. A fury of boots and fists followed, her cries for help going unanswered.

On the edge of unconsciousness, she was picked up and carted to the prison, deposited in a small room with only a bucket and an uncomfortable bed. She received one cup of water every day. A small plate of food every three days. She wasted away in there for what felt like months. But from counting the daily cups, she knew it was actually only 37 days. Only.

She didn’t spend all that time in her cell. On a few occasions, Echo was brought back to the throne room and placed on her knees before the queen. She’d prostrate herself and plead for forgiveness, and the queen would order another beating and send her back to prison. Curled up on the bed, she passed the time and distracted herself from her misery by replaying happy memories from years before in her mind. It was her sole comfort in those long weeks, but in time it only came to make her feel worse. These were things she could never have again. The queen didn’t care for her like her parents had, and Echo could no longer pretend that she did.

Echo began losing her head. Kicking the door and screaming, ripping her bed apart. One day she threw her bucket across the room, splashing the door and floor with the putrid stench. When the guard entered with her daily water, his horror was palpable. Within the hour, Echo was dragged back to the throne room once more. For some worse punishment, she figured, for causing such a mess.

In desperation, she dropped to the floor and began to babble through broken sobs. “Please. I’m begging you, please. Don’t send me back there. I can’t...” Echo got no more words out, the pain in her bruised ribs silencing her but for a low moan. Queen Nia rose from the throne and approached, stopping so close that Echo could see her feet. “Please,” she whimpered. “My queen, have mercy.”

A long moment of terrified shuddering later, Echo finally heard the queen speak. “Return the prisoner to her regular quarters and summon a healer,” she ordered the guards. “And see that she is fed.” Echo barely had time to feel relief before she was pulled to her feet and the queen tipped her chin up to look her in the eye. She couldn’t help but recoil in fear, but the queen’s expression was gentle. Maybe even sympathetic. “I do all I do for Azgeda. I know this was difficult for you. But if I tolerated cowardice and disobedience from those I have placed the most trust in, it would put our nation in jeopardy.”

Echo nodded with a thick swallow. “I understand.”

“I want no more Azgedean children to lose their parents to the Mountain Men. Or to Trikru,” continued Nia, watching Echo closely. The girl blinked vacantly, masking the pain these words caused her. “I’m sure you can understand that too.”

“Yes,” she admitted, keeping her voice steady out of spite.

“Good girl,” the queen praised her before addressing the guards again. “Take her away.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to post chapters 1 and 2 together because this one seems pointlessly dark until you can start to see what it sets up and parallels later on.


	2. The Queen's Hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd recommend you revisit the content warnings at the beginning before reading this chapter, if you are easily disturbed.

Finally getting his coughing under control, Roan leans on a table for support, clutching his chest wound. The disoriented king squints at his guards and their four Skaikru captives. “Where’s Ontari?”

“Dead, sire,” Echo tells him. “Killed by them.” Irritation crosses Roan’s face as his eyes fall to the woman on her knees at Echo’s feet, the one who claims to be his friend.

“We couldn’t save her,” deflects Wanheda. “But we did what we came here to do.” Her tone grows more desperate as she insists, “Now I need you to honor your promise to protect my people.” Echo rolls her eyes. If only Roan had woken up five seconds later, she wouldn’t have to be listening to this shit.

“Yeah, that was before your people shot me and killed my Commander,” retorts Roan.

“We just saved your damn life!” protests Octavia.

Echo strides between the kneeling captives to join her king. “Roan, your people are hungry for you to lead them. Do so now as your mother would have done,” she urges him. As much as she suffered at the hands of the queen, Echo respected Nia as a ruler and admired how she always did what was best for her people. How she kept Azgeda strong and safe, by any means necessary. Roan has yet to prove he can do the same, but taking a page from his mother’s book would go a long way to earning his nation’s loyalty and trust. Wanting nothing less for her longtime friend, Echo advises him, “Kill Wanheda, take her power, and rule over everything.”

***

In actuality, it was Queen’s Nia’s desire to rule over everything that killed Ontari. Not in body, but in spirit. The monster who won her conclave by murdering all the other nightbloods in their sleep was so far removed from the child Echo had met eight years earlier, she could hardly be considered the same person. All that remained was her stubborn and obnoxious core, refined into prominence when the rest of her was stripped away.

Queen Nia’s presence at the royal compound’s training facilities was a rarity, so when she was waiting there for Echo one morning when she arrived, it threw the young Guardian. If the queen simply had an assignment for her, she would have summoned her to the throne room. While Echo raced through the last several days in her mind, searching for what she may have done to upset her, the queen stood. Echo hardly had time to gulp and drop to one knee before the explanation came. “We have a new charge.”

Covertly releasing her held breath, Echo asked, “Another orphan?”

“A nightblood.”

Echo’s brow crinkled as she stood. “So we’re sending them to Polis?”

“No,” declared the queen. “Absolutely not.” Leading Echo into one of the large training rooms, she pointed out a preteen girl sitting on a bench near the door. Switching languages, she made the introductions in Trigedasleng. “Echo, this is Ontari. Ontari, Echo. She’ll be overseeing your training.” A slight warmth bloomed in Echo’s cheeks and gut as Nia continued, “She’s the most proficient swordsman in the Royal Guard. Only the best for my nightblood.”

Ontari didn’t thank the queen, as she should. She didn’t say anything at all, barely even lifted her sullen eyes from the floor. Feeling the queen beginning to tense with anger beside her, Echo deflected, “Anything else I should prioritize besides swords? Archery, maybe?”

“Archery?” Queen Nia turned on Echo, directing all her irritation her way. “Stupid girl. She doesn’t need any range skills to compete in single combat in the Conclave, does she?”

Bowing her head, Echo replied, “No, my queen. Forgive me.”

“Close combat only,” reiterated Queen Nia, taking the time to glare at both of them. “I’ll leave you to it.”

Gritting her teeth as the queen’s sharp footsteps faded, Echo took a moment to collect herself. Once she heard the door close, she cast an annoyed glance at the girl she just took a verbal beating for. “Do you speak any English?” Ontari shook her head and Echo told her, “I can help you with that too. You’ll need it.” Drawing her sword, she asked, “Have you ever used one of these before?”

Finally the child spoke. “Not much. My parents are merchants, not warriors.”

Looking her over, Echo observed, “They kept you hidden awhile. How old are you?”

“Eleven,” Ontari answered with a suspicious squint. “You?”

“Seventeen.”

Eyebrows peaking, the girl teased her, “Aren’t you a bit young to be in the Royal Guard?”

“Aren’t you a bit new to be running your mouth?” Echo fired back. Kicking her foot softly, she ordered her, “Get up, let’s see what you can do.”

She was terrible. Painfully so. She didn’t even know how to hold a sword properly. Echo always relished a good challenge, but this was an especially frustrating one. A few hours in, Ontari finally started to get the hang of parrying, and Echo began testing her with some combination moves. Still rather sloppy, on one of these Ontari somehow managed to get her forearm in the way of Echo’s blade.

Knowing it wasn’t her fault but still feeling a little bad, Echo muttered, “Shit, sorry.” Grabbing a bandage from one of the storage bins, she hustled back and extended it to Ontari. “Here.”

Ontari took it silently, swiping up the dark streams trickling down her arm before pressing it to the wound. Watching the black blood seep through the dressing, she murmured, “We tried so hard to keep anyone from finding out.”

“Why?” asked Echo, blinking dumbly at her student’s wistful demeanor. “It’s an honor to have the blood of the Commanders. I wish I was so lucky.”

“I don’t want to die,” Ontari shot back, as though this should be obvious. Her tone softened considerably as she added, “And I didn’t want to leave my home.”

“This isn’t such a bad home, kid. Not once you get used to it.” Observing Ontari’s unconvinced head tilt, Echo admitted, “I was an orphan, so it was this or the street. But they’ll take care of you. Just don’t piss Queen Nia off, and you’ll be fine.”

“What happens if you piss her off?”

Echo shrugged. “You get beaten, thrown in prison. Starved, if you’ve really made her mad. Whatever she feels like, basically.”

An inquisitive squint narrowed the newcomer’s eyes. “That ever happen to you?”

Flashing a tiny smirk, Echo boasted, “I can be quite the troublemaker.”

“I don’t know, you seem like a real kiss ass,” Ontari retorted flatly.

Caught off guard and torn between insult for herself and sincere concern for the mouthy preteen, Echo took a moment to reply. In the end, all she said was a pointed, “I know what’s good for me.”

Ontari raised her eyebrows. “Is that a threat?”

“No. It’s a warning.”

A warning Ontari did not heed. Echo wished she was surprised when her student was caught trying to run away, but truth be told, it had felt like an inevitability. Queen Nia was furious at her nightblood’s display of ingratitude after all she had done for her. As Ontari’s teacher, Echo was required to be there while the queen tore into her with a scathing lecture. After several painful minutes of horrible, ugly words, Nia finally demanded, “Why would you do this?”

After a thoughtful pause, Ontari simply stated, “I don’t want to be a nightblood.” She showed a lot of nerve for someone bound and on her knees before the ruthless Queen Nia. Echo would have been begging for forgiveness before her knees even touched the ground. Because Echo wasn’t an idiot.

Queen Nia snorted. “Well you don’t have much choice in that matter, do you?”

Ontari’s eyes fell to the floor. “If I could bleed red, I would.”

“You are a disgrace to the Commanders, and their blood,” snarled the queen. With one small hand motion, the guards flanking Ontari turned and began to pummel her. It was a struggle for Echo not to wince or flinch at all at the sight, at the crunching sounds and the moans. But she felt the queen’s eyes on her a few times, and she refused to give anything away. _Blank face. Bury your emotions so they can’t be used against you._

Finally Queen Nia ordered the guards, “Enough. Take her to the prison. Show her what happens to those who betray my trust.”

Echo’s eyebrows arched in alarm. Turning to Nia as the prisoner was dragged away, she quietly protested, “My queen, she’s only a child.”

“A child who needs to learn,” declared Nia. “Just like you did.”

Echo set her jaw. She avoided thinking about that incident as much as possible. She’d suffered the odd beating in the seven years since then, for failures or poor performance, but nothing like those long weeks of starvation in solitary confinement. Queen Nia liked to bring it up now and then to remind Echo just how at her mercy she was. To scare her into submission. It worked.

After two weeks with no word on Ontari or her condition, Echo grew restless and took matters into her own hands. On day fifteen, she went to the prison and demanded she be the one to deliver Ontari’s food and drink that day.

The guard in the hallway containing her cell appeared surprised when some stranger dressed as a Royal Guardian strolled in bearing the meager sustenance. Echo didn’t frequent the prison, for obvious reasons. “Ontari?” she asked. The guard nodded to a cell a few doors away, but didn’t make any move to unlock it. Even as Echo raised an authoritative eyebrow, he hesitated and glanced back at the stairwell she came from. “Open the door,” she ordered him. “Now.”

After all her time spent with the queen, Echo was a master of intimidation. Just the right intonation and posture sent the guard scrambling to obey. Sweeping by him and into the cell, Echo found the young nightblood curled into herself, congealed black blood staining her face and arms. Pain spread out in her chest at the sight. Swallowing hard, Echo eased herself down onto the edge of the bed, prompting Ontari to open her eyes. Those bleary, bloodshot eyes staring at her in confusion, Echo said, “I told you not to piss her off.”

Ontari narrowed her eyes a little but didn’t answer, so Echo set the plate in front of her face. “I come bearing gifts.” Still, Ontari didn't move. Echo remembered how, back when she was in this situation, she would wolf down anything she was handed, only regretting not saving it later. But even half-starved, Ontari didn’t seem interested in food. That worried Echo more than anything.

She came by this fear naturally - her parents had driven it into her as a child by panicking any time she had a poor appetite. Apparently it was a sign of the infection that had killed her older brother as a toddler, a sign they’d overlooked. Echo had been too young when he died to remember any of it, but she took their word for it.

“Please.” Ontari’s voice pulled Echo from her thoughts, her eyes flicking softly to the wounded girl. “Help me.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Echo told her, extending the cup of water.

Ontari shook her head. “I need to get out of here.”

Eyes rolling back in their sockets, Echo spouted, “Where would you go, Ontari? Home? That’s the first place they’ll look. You try to run again, you’ll end up back here, or worse.” Gripping the girl's bloodstained forearm, she assured her, “If you follow the queen, she will protect you.”

“You might feel differently if you had a home to go back to,” came Ontari’s blunt retort.

Despite the lack of malice in her tone, her words dug into Echo deeper than either of them could have expected. A simmering rage welling up in her chest and tightening her jaw, Echo fingered the hilt of her sword and growled, “Listen here, you little shit...”

Ontari didn’t even flinch. “Do it. Put me out of my misery.”

This wasn't like Ontari. She could be mopey, sure, but she was not the type to give up. Knowing the equally stubborn Queen Nia, Echo had expected to find Ontari quietly seething and determined to survive out of spite. Refusing to let her renewed concern show through, Echo forcibly handed Ontari the cup and ordered her, “Drink your fucking water.” Then she stormed out of the cell.

Back at the compound, Echo entered the throne room without an invitation. Protocol was to request an audience and wait for approval, but Echo decided this qualified as an emergency. In hindsight, that was just what she told herself so she wouldn't have to admit that she was angry with Nia. Failing to bow, Echo marched straight up to the towering woman where she stood by a table, studying a military map littered with armies. Nia barely even had a chance to glare at the intruder before Echo was telling her, “My queen, the nightblood is sick. She needs a healer.”

Returning her attention to the map, Nia brushed this off with a nonchalant, “She should have thought of that before she tried to run.”

“What good is she to you dead?” snapped Echo.

The queen raised a dangerous eyebrow and Echo ducked her head, biting her lips from the inside. After a moment of thought, Nia inquired, “You really think she’s close to death?”

“She won’t eat, and it’s not out of stubbornness,” Echo informed her. “She’s been beaten bloody. She may have an infection from an open wound.”

Queen Nia considered this, finally consenting with a wave of her hand. “Summon a healer. To the prison,” she specified. “I’m not letting her out until she breaks.”

“Is that the idea? To break her?” The implications sent Echo’s head swimming. Nia didn’t answer, which did more to confirm them than anything she could have said. Gulping down the lump in her throat, Echo backed away. It was all she could do not to run. Or scream. “Excuse me, my queen. That healer won’t summon himself.”

Maybe it was the illness, but Ontari broke quicker than Echo expected. Much quicker than Echo herself had. Of course, if Echo had known all she had to do to get out was fake a mental breakdown, she would have done it sooner. As it turned out, Ontari had figured that out for herself. Once she’d recuperated enough to resume training, she was back to her old self, the only difference being the anger simmering behind her eyes. Though Ontari still groused her way through their sessions, there was a little more fire now for Echo to harness. Now the nightblood put up more of a fight, stubborn as ever.

Echo really should have seen the second escape attempt coming.

It took a few days for them to hunt Ontari down this time. The queen called in extra help for the search party, including most of the Royal Guardians, but Echo was not among them. She didn’t know what to make of that until after Ontari was captured, when she was called in to meet with Queen Nia.

“New targets for you,” Nia said as Echo rose following her bow, handing her the papers.

“Surveillance or assassination?” queried Echo.

“Assassination.”

Echo absorbed this impassively, not even needing to hide an emotional response. Killing was just another part of the job, nothing new to her at this point. Scanning the names, descriptions, and location of the two targets, she offhandedly inquired, “What’s the nature of their crime? Political?” That was the most common. The queen was ruthless in stamping out pockets of resistance to her reign of terror.

“Religious.” Echo blinked up curiously at the answer. Queen Nia wasn’t exactly known for respecting the customs of the Flamekeepers. Training her own nightblood was a major violation on her part, downright blasphemous. Sensing Echo’s confusion, she clarified, “Concealing a nightblood over nine years of age.”

That was when it dawned on Echo. This was a test of loyalty.

It was not unlike Queen Nia. She didn’t have her subjects beat the shit out of each other on her behalf because she refused to do the dirty work. At this point in Echo’s life, she understood that Nia enjoyed the power of making people hurt those they knew or even cared about. Perhaps she also hoped it would divide them to avoid anyone plotting a coup, but there was a saying among her underlings: nothing but the queen’s hand. It was never personal. Sometimes, remembering that was the only way to stay sane, whether one was on the giving or receiving end of such brutality. But Echo had a feeling Ontari would be the type to hold grudges. Everything was personal with her.

Resolving to stay calm, Echo casually asked, “You think this will make her want to stay?”

“No,” Nia admitted freely. “But it gives her nowhere else to go.”

“Other than Polis,” ventured Echo.

“She wouldn’t get that far. I’d rather kill her than let her fall into the hands of the Flamekeepers or be tutored by a Blue Cliff commander. She’d turn on her own people out of hatred for me.” Holding Echo’s gaze intently, she questioned her, “Could I count on you to guard our nation’s assets, in that case?”

“Of course, my queen,” Echo answered with conviction. _Nothing but the queen’s hand._ Maybe it would be better to put Ontari out of her misery anyway, like she had asked. Especially now.

Ontari’s parents lived nearly a full day’s ride from the Azgedean capital, far into the northwestern reaches of the clan’s territory. Echo was miserable the whole way there, and the whole way back. But when she sliced open their throats, she felt nothing. She’d long stopped experiencing remorse or guilt over her kills. The only reason she felt awful in the lead up and aftermath was because the true target was still alive, and someone Echo was loathe to hurt for some reason. But Echo knew that if she didn’t do this, someone else would, and Echo would lose the trust Nia had in her. Possibly her head, too.

Echo struck at nightfall, then slipped out of town and camped in the forest. Not far away enough, unfortunately, to avoid being woken by screams when the decapitated bodies were discovered in their home the next morning. By a neighbor, maybe, or a customer. They had no other children to find them. Echo was grateful for that. She had never killed children and it wasn’t something she exactly looked forward to. But she feared it might be in her near future if Ontari still failed to fall in line.

By the time Echo returned to the compound that evening, the heads she carried as proof had started to stink. The stench made her grimace as she opened the bag, but Queen Nia seemed unbothered by either the sight or the smell. “Very good,” she praised Echo, looking genuinely impressed. Even now, the queen’s approval made her heart swell, and Echo hated herself for it. With a hand wave to dismiss her, Nia ordered her, “Deliver them to the nightblood.” Contrasting her usual fervor when serving her queen, Echo hesitated. Nia raised a challenging eyebrow. “Is there a problem, Guardian?”

 _Blank face._ Swiftly shaking her head, Echo assured her, “No, my queen.”

Turning before Queen Nia could see the lie in her eyes, Echo exited the throne room. Despite her intentions to obey orders and head for the prison, her feet had a mind of their own, much like that day she was almost captured by the Reapers. Wandering the compound, Echo tried to muster her courage. But she knew that if she did this, it would break her in a whole new way. She couldn’t bear the thought of seeing the look on Ontari’s face, hearing her screams of mourning or rage. Echo really wasn’t keen on reliving the moment she learned of her own parents’ deaths either. Even thinking about it was bad enough. She felt sick.

In time, she found she had wandered right to Roan’s door. Really, who else would she go to? When he answered her knock with a creased brow and concerned eyes, she knew she hadn’t buried her emotions deep enough. And with him looking at her that way, it was a struggle to keep them concealed at all. Setting her jaw, she blurted, “Roan, I need your help with something.” He raised an eyebrow and she nodded down at the bloodstained burlap sack in her hand. “Ontari’s parents.”

Roan sighed, scratching the back of his head. “I wish I could say I’m surprised.”

Feeling her lip start to quiver, Echo bit down on it hard, grounding herself with the pain. Still, her voice threatened to crack as she implored, “I can’t do this, Roan. Please, can you deliver them for me?”

“Echo.” Voice and eyes softening, Roan took half a step closer and laid a hand on her shuddering shoulder. “Hey.”

Despite craving the comfort, Echo jerked away from him. If she gave into it, she knew she would lose control entirely. She would not stoop to crying in front of her future king, no matter their kinship now. “I’m fine,” she lied. “But Ontari will never forgive me if I show up with these, even if I lie and say I didn’t do it. She’ll make my life hell. And I have to see her every day.” That much was true. And it was a compelling enough argument on its own.

Studying her a moment longer, Roan reached down to grab something behind the door. Though all traces of familiarity were gone from his tone, there remained hints of sympathy in his eyes as he told her, “Guardian, I have a sword that needs sharpening.” Extending the weapon to Echo, Roan ordered her, “Take it to the blacksmith. If my mother asks, I caught you on your way out of the compound, reassigned you before you could reach the prison.”

Exchanging the bag for the sword, Echo heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Roan.”

She could tell he meant it quite literally when he replied, “Don’t mention it.”

When Ontari was released from prison for the second time, she was a different person. Still incredibly abrasive, but emotionally detached. More notably, she was no longer disinterested in training. Quite the opposite, in fact. Echo liked to think it was because fighting was the only way for her to feel alive - a motive she could relate to. At the same time, she worried that Ontari’s sudden enthusiasm came from a desire to use these lethal skills on the queen. That would get the child nowhere but tied to a stake and covered in cuts.

A few days after they resumed their swordplay lessons, Echo’s concern prompted her to dig a little. Pouring herself a cup of water after a particularly spirited bout of sparring, Echo placed the pitcher back on the table and remarked, “You’re sure focused these days.” She kept her eyes squarely on Ontari, peeking over the rim of the glass as her student gave her a fleeting glance.

Knocking back the rest of her water, Ontari slammed her glass on the table and snorted, “Isn’t that what you always wanted?”

“Ontari.” Echo’s serious tone called Ontari’s gaze back, however reluctantly. “Please don’t do anything stupid. I know you don’t think I care about you, but I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

Ontari’s lips tightened in an ironic smile. “Bad things have already happened to me. Or haven’t you heard?”

Ignoring the small twinge in her heart, Echo stepped closer, invading the smaller girl’s space. “I don’t want to see you die,” she enunciated. “I don’t want to have to participate.” Either Echo’s earnest tone or dominant posturing forced Ontari to blink away at that point. Laying a hand on her shoulder, Echo declared, “But if you come after the queen, I’m going to have to stop you.”

Ontari’s face snapped up, incredulity written all over it. “I’m not going to kill the queen. Do you think I’m stupid?”

“You tried to run away a second time,” Echo pointed out.

Scowling, Ontari gave her a small shove to reclaim her personal space. “Screw you, Echo.” Drawing her sword, she stalked back onto the floor and turned, wielding it as a challenge. “Well?”

Unwilling to let it go, Echo raised an eyebrow as she drew her own sword, prowling toward her target. “You want to kill someone,” she stated as they faced off again. “I can see it in your eyes.” When Ontari didn’t deny it, Echo couldn’t help but avert her eyes for a split second. “Who is it? The person who murdered your parents?”

Ontari scoffed. “Queen Nia murdered my parents. But I’d kill half the guards if I had the chance.” She lunged at Echo, who knocked the sword from her grip within a few clashes of their blades. Echo’s kick to her chest sent her sprawling and she landed hard on her back, knocking the wind out of her.

As Ontari coughed air back into her lungs, Echo sheathed her sword and extended a hand to help her up. “So they were rough with you even when she didn’t order it?”

“Sometimes,” grunted Ontari as she was pulled to her feet. Rubbing the back of her hip, she murmured, “There was one who was kind to me.”

“Kind?”

She shrugged. “He’d ask how I was, sneak me extra food.”

Echo’s eyebrows arched. Interfering with Queen Nia’s disciplinary tactics was treated as something akin to treason. “Does he have a death wish?”

“No, he just likes me.” Ontari said this very casually, but couldn’t disguise the slight upturn of her lips at the end of the sentence. Her description of the situation and the way she was avoiding eye contact sent a chill through Echo.

Voice and features going dark, Echo demanded, “What was he getting out of the deal?” The girl said nothing. “Ontari, what did he make you do?”

“He didn’t _make_ me do anything,” snarked Ontari, though her eyes betrayed some embarrassment along with the obvious indignation. “Wouldn’t you want to return the favor if someone did that for you?”

Echo scoffed. “You’re not gonna convince me it was your idea.”

“So what?”

“You were his prisoner and you’re barely twelve years old,” she spelled out. “That’s wrong in so many ways.”

“I didn’t know you were so judgemental,” huffed Ontari.

“It’s not you I’m judging. This guy was using you. Would you have done anything like that if you weren’t starving and locked up?”

“Maybe not right away,” Ontari mumbled in admission. Quickly recovering, she added, “But eventually. I like him, and he likes me.”

Shaking her head, Echo argued, “If he likes you so much, has he come to visit you since you got out?”

“Of course not. It has to be a secret.”

“Uh huh.”

As Ontari took this in, her fragile smile crumbled. Stomping to the side wall to collect her sword, she sheathed it aggressively. “Fine. Crush the one bit of happiness I have,” she muttered, blowing by her teacher. “Thanks a lot, Echo.”

“Ontari, stop!” Echo’s sharp, no nonsense tone convinced her to do so, if only for a moment. “I’m just trying to look out for you,” Echo insisted as she turned around. “I’m on your side.”

“No you’re not,” snapped Ontari. “You’re Nia’s bitch, and everyone knows it. For all I know, it was you who reported me missing or killed my parents.”

Echo absorbed this without so much as a flicker in her features, despite the shame and regret she felt for being guilty on both counts. “I do what I need to to survive,” she deflected, easing closer. “At some point we all have to fall in line or suffer the consequences. You’re an ignorant fool.”

“Oh, I’ll fall in line, and I’ll survive,” Ontari assured her lowly. “But don’t think for one second that I give a shit about that woman or what she thinks of me. At least _I_ can face the fact that my mother is dead.”

That strike hit Echo with the force and surprise of a slap upside the head, delaying her reaction a couple seconds. Once again displaying her stupidity, Ontari didn’t run, staying instead to revel in the satisfaction of landing such a blow. She paid for it with a fist that nearly knocked her off her feet. While she was still reeling, Echo swiftly tackled her and pinned her prone on the floor, smashing her face into the wooden surface. Drawing a knife from her belt, Echo pressed it to the nightblood’s jugular. “Second warning,” she snarled. “If you talk to me that way about my parents again, I’ll kill you.”

A dark chuckle from below threw Echo for a moment, and she couldn’t help but wonder if the child was truly mad. “Do you think I’m fucking joking?” she spat, getting to her feet.

Ontari lazily rolled onto her back, propping herself up on her elbows. Even with black blood streaming from her nostrils, she looked nothing less than pleased with herself. “There, some actual emotion,” she declared with satisfaction. Standing unsteadily, she swiped at the blood with the cuff of her sleeve. “It’s about damn time.”

Echo told herself that didn’t warrant a response, but truthfully, she didn’t know how to respond. While Ontari left wearing a smug and slightly insane smile, Echo could only stand silently, caught between numbness and rage. As both melted away, giving way to grief, her vision blurred with tears. Sinking back to the floor, she drew her legs into her chest and rested her forehead on her knees. She’d been fighting off her emotions for so long. But in that moment, she surrendered control of her aching chest and lungs, of her tight throat and shuddering shoulders. For the first time in years, Echo let herself cry.


	3. Bargaining Chips

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, we're finally into the part of the timeline that intersects with Lexa's reign, her alliance, and the hostility between her and Nia. Now all this Dark Shit and childhood trauma will start to pay off and you'll see where all this is going, how I've woven Echo and Roan into these various events and turned the anecdotes into an actual storyline. I am forever salty that we never got more background on the history between Trikru and Azgeda or what the hell happened between their leaders, so I figured I'd piece together a version of it.
> 
> Again, the content warnings listed at the beginning still apply.

The flaming knife sizzles as it hits the water, raising Echo’s eyebrows in admiration as Roan swaggers away after cauterizing his own chest wound with barely a flinch. His stoic demeanor never stopped impressing Echo, even as she got better at copying it over the years. While she blinks her expression back to neutral, Roan grunts, “Say your piece.”

“You haven’t been home in more than three years,” starts Echo.

Roan scoffs as he pulls a shirt over his head. “You act as if that was my choice.”

“Of course it wasn’t. You were a bargaining chip. It almost broke your mother to send you away.” Roan scoffs again, catching her eye disbelievingly over his shoulder. Okay, maybe that wasn’t the best argument. She tries another angle as he continues to dress. “Killing Lexa in _solo gonplei_ was to be your triumphant return, but you lost. Our war chiefs don’t respect you.”

“Then I’ll get new war chiefs,” he states, unbothered.

Echo rolls her eyes but works to keep the sass out of her voice. “The army is loyal to them. Not you.”

“And who are you loyal to?” As Roan turns around, Echo spots a surprising distrustfulness in his signature glower. “Spy?” he all but spits. The contempt in his face and voice are even more insulting than the question itself. After everything they’ve been through together, his doubt is a slap to the face. He knows Echo never intended for any harm to come to him. Ever.

“I’m loyal to my clan,” she declares earnestly, stepping closer. “To my king.” Roan sighs and turns away. He must know that wasn’t a fair question. Resolving not to take it personally, Echo urges him, “Let me serve you. I can help you do what your mother never could. What Ontari never could.”

“Rule everything,” says Roan.

“Yes.”

***

A little more than two years after Ontari was first brought to the compound, the horns signalling the death of the Commander echoed through the lands. The Conclave would begin in two days, and the resident nightblood was itching to attend. “If we leave in the morning, we can make it in time for the purification ritual,” she urged Queen Nia. “I’m ready. I’ll make you proud.”

Her enthusiasm was brushed off with a simple, “No.”

“My queen-”

“This last Commander was in power for a long time. You’re younger than most of the novitiates and have been training for less time. Our sources say there are a brother and sister from Podakru who look promising. Chances are, one of them will ascend.” Stepping closer, the queen ran her fingertips down the ridge of Ontari’s jaw. “I will not risk losing you when the likely winners are our allies and neighbors, Ontari. Waste not.”

Ontari recoiled only the slightest at the invasively intimate touch. Echo recoiled more, in fact. It was difficult not to recall being touched the same way after she was peeled off the throne room floor following her lengthy imprisonment. Swallowing her disappointment, Ontari declared, “Then I will be all the more ready for the next Conclave.”

“Exactly,” smiled Nia. “I want you to have the best chance to survive. To win.”

Winning was probably not at the forefront of Ontari’s mind. Echo had a feeling her student just wanted to get out from under Queen Nia’s control. Either become ruler of all, or end her suffering. That was more options than Echo had. Even if it was years down the road, at least Ontari had a way out alive.

Within the week, messengers arrived to inform the queen that a novitiate from Trikru had won the Conclave. Echo had never seen Nia so angry, not even when Ontari ran away. She refrained from killing the messengers, but virulently and repetitively cursed the name of the Podakru girl who fled the Conclave, allowing the enemy to prevail. Luna.

Echo was dismissed with the rest of the Guard as the queen continued her rampage, losing her composure to an uncharacteristic degree. Echo couldn’t help wondering if it was because she was mad at herself for counting on Podakru and not sending Ontari. Whatever it was, by the time Echo was summoned to return to the throne room a couple hours later, Nia had regained her aura of authority. Her posture was stiff, eyes hard, tongue silent. That was actually scarier than Nia yelling. After ten years of serving her queen, Echo knew her body language all too well. Knew the rage simmering beneath the surface. Knew someone usually died when she carried herself that way.

“That girl has betrayed her clan and all its allies,” Echo declared as she dropped to one knee before the throne. “I’d hunt her down myself and bring you her head as a gift if you’d let me.”

“Her fate is the decision of the Commander and Flamekeepers, unfortunately,” replied Nia. Nodding her permission for Echo to stand, she added, “But I appreciate your fervor.”

“Of course. You know I would do anything for Azgeda, but that would be a pleasure. Luna is not only a traitor, she is a disgrace.”

The queen bristled, turning her ire on Echo. “That is not your place to say. You ran from your duty once too.” Duly censured, Echo bowed her head in shame. “Cowardice lives inside all of us, dear Echo,” continued Nia. “But we must never let it take hold.”

“I’m not a coward,” Echo protested before she could stop herself. “I would never run.” This time she held the queen’s gaze, intimidating as it was. “I learned my lesson.”

The staring contest went on for what felt like an eternity, with Nia peering deeply into Echo’s eyes in a way that made it difficult not to squirm. Finally, she nodded and said, “Good. If you don’t fear the enemy, then go live among them. I will need eyes and ears I can trust inside Polis now. A Blue Cliff commander was bad enough, but Trikru cannot be trusted. They proved that ten years ago.” She said that last part casually enough, but judging from the way she caught Echo’s eyes after, it was calculated. Stomach turning, Echo stayed silent. Nia raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t they?”

Echo swallowed as subtly as she could. “Yes, my queen.”

“You will leave tomorrow,” concluded Nia. “Pose as a vagrant trader so your comings and goings aren’t suspicious.”

“What about Ontari?” asked Echo.

“She needs to learn weapons other than swords,” said Nia. “There are other Guardians who can train her in your absence.” And that was that. The next morning, Echo set off with a load of pelts and a heavy heart. Though she’d spent time in other nations with the military or to gather intelligence, she’d never had to be gone for long. And she didn’t like leaving what little of a home she had.

Things went on that way for years. Echo made runs down to Polis once every few months, staying in Trikru territory for up to four weeks at a time. She made connections, got to know people. Sort of. She didn’t really want to get to know any of these Trikru scum, but she had to gain their trust somehow. People don’t have loose lips around strangers. Nia had been right that adults would speak carelessly around children, but Echo was no longer a child and had to employ new tactics now. So get to know them she did.

Nearly three years after Lexa’s ascension, Echo was called to the throne room for new instructions. She’d only recently returned from her latest trip and was irritated at the prospect of leaving again so soon, but she went without complaint. When she arrived, Queen Nia informed her that the Azgeda ambassador in Polis was worried that the Commander was attempting to unite the other clans against them. “He’s heard talk of an alliance, but no one has come to him offering Azgeda a place in it,” she explained. “And with his markings, he draws attention and can’t get close enough to overhear anything they don’t want him to. We need you to press your Trikru connections for information and try to listen in on any meetings he is not privy to.”

“Consider it done,” said Echo. She paused in thought. “Could Lexa actually get our allies to turn on us?”

“She’s supposedly ruling with the wisdom of the past Commanders,” Nia pointed out. “It could make manipulating the clans easy.”

“Good point,” agreed Echo, ignoring the implication that the Flame carried no significance. She preferred to believe in such things. It was something to believe in.

Given the urgency of the situation, Queen Nia allotted only ten days for Echo to complete the mission and report back to her, which left her just over a week to spend in Polis. And though Echo had great faith in her own abilities, she feared she would run out of time. She set to work immediately upon her arrival, rekindling an old connection with a local foot soldier who was aggravatingly simple but good in the sack. Though at one point she’d never imagined she would stoop so low as to literally sleep with the enemy, in time Echo had learned that one of the best ways to make people talk is to get them off. No one ever thinks about what they say after. Especially men, in her experience.

When questioned about his presence in the city, the soldier easily told Echo his platoon was grounded in Polis because there were treaty talks going on and all hostilities had been put on hold. That in itself was not very helpful, but being by his side got her into the Trikru embassy a few times. Unfortunately, those trips also proved fruitless. She spotted the Trikru ambassador only once and overheard no new information.

Running out of time and desperate for a lead, Echo did the unthinkable: bow to a Trikru commander. It was a necessary part of getting an audience, in which Echo hoped she might be able to manipulate Lexa into spilling information. Echo relayed her trader alter ego’s backstory, explaining she was from a village close to the Ice Nation border. Claiming her village had been ransacked by Azgedean raiding parties on multiple occasions, she begged Lexa to send protection.

“You won’t have to worry about that for much longer,” Lexa assured her with a smile. “There are negotiations underway to unite us against outside threats.”

“Us?”

“Trikru and the other clans,” clarified Lexa. Though that really clarified nothing at all.

“Even Azgeda?” pressed Echo, feigning disgust.

“The negotiations are still in progress,” said Lexa. “That’s all I can tell you right now. But I promise you, soon your village will be safe.”

Echo left the tower frustrated but also bewildered. Although some of the Trikru Echo had met were quite accommodating, she hadn’t expected Lexa to be so kind and attentive. Lexa’s military track record showed her to be ruthless. And that was what Echo expected of leaders, for obvious reasons. So she decided to keep an eye out for her in public, study the woman herself to learn more about what they might be up against.

Echo’s bad luck continued; there wasn’t much to see. The few times Echo spotted Lexa around Polis before she had to make a hasty return, the Commander carried herself well and seemed adored by her subjects. One in particular, a girl Echo noticed with Lexa on two occasions. The first time Echo assumed the girl was a servant, but the second time time she saw them touch hands and share a brief smile. Casually questioning her acquaintances about it, she confirmed that Lexa was indeed in love with the girl. Echo briefly wondered what it would be like to be in love. Decided she didn’t want to find out.

Echo was despondent as she rode home, lacking any useful information about the purported alliance and terrified that her mission would be declared a failure. Though she could take a beating stoically if that was what the queen ordered, she couldn’t stand the thought of being locked up again. But if she lied, gave false information to stave off Nia’s wrath, she could put her nation in peril. And if her lie was found out, she’d be killed in the worst possible way. No, she was no coward. She would tell the queen the truth and face the consequences.

“Our ambassador was right, there is a peace treaty in the works,” Echo reported to Nia and Roan upon her return. “But I could never get an answer on which clans were involved and which were being targeted. I even spoke to Lexa, and all she said was ‘Trikru and the other clans.’”

“Safe to say we know where we stand,” said Nia. She squinted in thought. “What can you tell me about the Commander? Is she calculating, impulsive? Any weaknesses?”

“She seems assured and in control. I saw no weaknesses exploitable in battle,” admitted Echo. Nia’s gaze hardened and a chill ran down Echo’s spine. Averting her eyes, she wracked her brain for any information of use. “But there’s a girl by the Commander’s side. Name’s Costia, as I recall. If we capture her, we have leverage to negotiate a peace treaty.”

Queen Nia considered this a moment before giving a decisive nod. “Roan will go fetch her.”

Roan threw his mother a look both suspicious and displeased. “Why me?”

“Because I want Lexa to know who has the girl. Besides, we can’t risk blowing Echo’s cover.” When Roan’s expression failed to change, she raised an eyebrow. “Shall I send Toro in your stead? He may be better suited to carry out the duties of the crown prince.”

Roan scowled, eyes narrowed calculatingly. A long, tense moment passed before he answered, “No, that won’t be necessary.”

Turning to Echo, Nia gave her a terse nod. “Thank you, Guardian. You are dismissed.” Echo didn’t need to be told twice. Disguising her sigh of relief as a grunt as she got to her feet, she marched out of the throne room as quickly as she could without revealing her fear that the queen would change her mind.

Several days later, Echo and Ontari were interrupted in the middle of a spirited sparring session, ordered to report to the prison. Just receiving the summons was enough to make Echo’s stomach turn. She got shivers anytime she walked in that door. They intensified when she and Ontari arrived and were directed to a cell deep in the bowels of the building. Echo knew it well. Only the worst things happened there. Interrogations and deaths by cuts.

Roan and Nia were already in the cell, as well as two guards and a woman they were tying to the stake in the center. Trying to, anyway. She was struggling a lot, though with very poor form. Clearly she was no warrior. They subdued her with a few punches to her face, which was covered with a bag. Once she was secured, one of the guards whipped off the bag and Echo’s chest clenched as she recognized the girl from Polis. Costia, the one Commander Lexa adores. “Is this the girl?” demanded Nia.

Tongue dry as sandpaper, Echo forced out a, “Yes.”

“Well done, Roan,” Nia congratulated her son, who responded with nothing but a silent glower.

Based on her suggestion that Costia be used as a bargaining chip, the girl’s presence here was a puzzle to Echo. Stepping to her queen’s side, she made her inquiries in English, hoping Costia couldn’t understand. “What’s she done?”

“Nothing.”

Having feared that, Echo nodded her understanding. She’d done interrogations before. They weren’t her favorite thing, but she did what she had to for her people. “What do we hope she knows?”

The queen turned her head to stare Echo down. “Nothing,” she repeated flatly. “We’re using her to send a message to Lexa.”

The Guardian’s eyebrows arched in alarm. “My queen, are you sure this is wise? Provoking the Commander? Do you want our lands under attack?”

“No, dear Echo. I want her to know my wrath, what happens to those who cross me.”

Echo swallowed hard. Queen Nia only called her ‘dear Echo’ when she was in trouble, or flirting with it. “You want to intimidate her,” she concluded.

“Smart girl.”

“Aren’t there better ways to do that than murdering an innocent civilian?” pressed Echo.

“War makes murderers of us all,” Nia answered nonchalantly.

“We aren’t at war,” argued Echo. “Though we might be, if you insist on doing this.”

Nia glared down her nose at Echo, taking full advantage of her towering stature. “I don’t appreciate your tone.”

Quickly ducking her head, Echo backpedaled, “I meant no offense.”

“Of course not. You know better.” With that, the queen stepped forward and handed one of the guards a knife. “You might as well start us off.” Each of them silently took their turn, leaving a couple cuts each on Costia’s arms. When the second one finished, he turned to Echo and offered her the knife. Taking it hesitantly, Echo turned it over and over in unsure hands. Nia sighed impatiently. “This is nothing new to you.”

“Yes it is,” Echo muttered to her feet. Though she’d interrogated people who were ostensibly innocent before, it had always been in the name of keeping her nation or her queen safe. There were reasons for it. But Echo had never tortured an innocent person for fun, and she had no desire to start now.

Roan finally opened his mouth. “Mother, you know this is wrong.”

“I don’t remember asking you a damn thing, Roan,” Nia shot back. Though her tone was harsh, the reprimand was all Roan had to worry about, and Echo resented him for it. He was one person who could get away with questioning Queen Nia without fear of retribution. She never laid a hand on either of her sons. Prowling closer to Echo, she declared, “You will do as you are told, or suffer the consequences.”

Nodding numbly, Echo forced her feet to carry her to the center of the room. Bruises were starting to puff on Costia’s face, a face displaying more anger than fear. Echo wasn’t sure which bothered her more. Before she could hesitate again, she cut Costia across the top of her stomach. Hearing the girl’s sharp exhale as she tried to stay silent, Echo locked eyes with her. “I’m sorry,” she whispered in Trigedasleng. The indignation flaring up in Costia’s eyes only intensified, ending with a wad of bloody spit on Echo’s face. A new emotion swelled in Echo’s gut, making her nostrils flare. In an instant, she’d clocked Costia in the temple with the knife’s hilt.

“That’s right,” Nia egged Echo on in Trig as Costia groaned woozily. “Remember your anger. Remember what Trikru did to your family.” Echo did remember. And she cut into the vulnerable flesh again, dragging the knife deeper. Costia screamed, but at that point it did nothing to deter Echo. She could remember screaming for the same reasons at nine years old. Pain and helplessness. All thanks to Trikru. So she cut the girl again. And again.

Finally Nia intervened with a hand on her shoulder. “That’s enough, Echo. Leave some flesh for the rest of us.” Still shaking with rage as she walked away, Echo slapped the knife into her pupil’s palm on the way by. “The face,” Nia ordered Ontari as Echo sank into a crouch by the wall. “When we deliver her head, we want Lexa to know what we did to her.”

Ontari was all too happy to slice the girl’s cheeks, fisting Costia’s hair to hold her in place and grinning with a sick sort of enjoyment at her whimpers and tears. Echo’s shuddering continued as she watched, but it didn’t feel like anger anymore. More than anything, she felt confused and out of place.

As Ontari took half a step back and examined Costia’s face, pondering where to make the next cut, Roan approached and extended his hand. Ontari squinted at him, but handed the knife over anyway. Nia barely had a chance to say, “Good, my son,” before the knife was buried in the captive’s chest. Shooting his mother a glare in the stunned silence that followed, Roan stalked out of the cell.

Echo was the first to make a sound in the wake of Roan’s footsteps. A snort of amusement at Nia’s shocked expression, or maybe relief at Costia’s slumping body. Whatever caused it, it quickly snowballed despite the queen’s icy glare, giggles and cackles escalating until Echo was curled on the cold concrete floor, laughing uncontrollably.

Shaking her head in disgust, Nia addressed Echo’s charge before sweeping out of the cell. “Ontari, get her home and into bed.”

Squatting next to Echo, Ontari widened her eyes and urgently hissed, “Are you insane?” Still fighting off residual guffaws, Echo was unable to answer. But even once she calmed down, she didn’t say a word as Ontari dragged her back to her quarters and deposited her on her bed. “I never thought I’d be the one telling you to get in line,” spouted Ontari, glowering down at her mentor. “Get your head on straight, Echo. You’re on thin ice with Nia.”

Thin ice. One misstep, and you plunge into death. A cold and lonely death. Echo lay there contemplating that, that and what she had just done. Not only to Costia, but to Lexa. She wasn’t sure why that mattered to her. They were the enemy, and she’d done worse to members of her own clan. Her exhausted brain gave out before long, granting her sleep by mid-afternoon. A long but restless sleep, her demons stalking her into unconsciousness.

In the morning, Echo was sent on her way with another burlap bag, another heart to break. Another life to destroy. She was in a daze all the way to Polis, a daze that didn’t lift for weeks after her return. And even when it did, Echo didn’t feel the same. Something happened to her that day in the prison, something she couldn’t undo.

Sneaking into the city via the tunnels, Echo crept around until she found the guards who worked the lift in the tower. She picked them off with throwing knives from around the corner and steadily climbed the entire elevator shaft, not even registering her fatigue. Nothing at all registered until she stepped out onto the top floor and her body informed her it still had a will to live. Heart in her throat, she slipped among the shadows in search of the Commander’s chambers. Queen Nia could have chosen a way to deliver Costia’s head that didn’t put Echo in mortal danger, but apparently the life of her best spy meant less to her than shock value.

When Echo removed the head to leave it on the bed as per Queen Nia’s orders, she discovered someone had carved the Azgedean crest into Costia’s forehead following her death. Leaving nothing to question. She found herself staring for several seconds before blinking to snap herself out of it. Leaving the head on the bag, she peeked out the door and made her escape. As Echo climbed back into the shaft, a scream rang out down the hall. A scream of horror and grief that sent shivers down all her limbs. Squeezing the rungs tighter to compensate for her sweaty palms, she beat a hasty retreat.

Too fearful of being pursued to stop in Trikru territory, Echo rode well into the evening before stopping to camp in the woods just past the border. Lying in her tent, she stared at the canvas above her and tried to get Costia’s carved up face out of her head. It didn’t work. Echo’s sleep was fitful once it finally came. She woke with the morning light but didn’t move for hours. Her bones ached and she was tired, so tired. The mission was over anyway and she had no reason to get up. Because, for once, she had no motivation to go home.

Eventually Echo did drag herself out of bed and make the final leg of the journey. She had to remind herself to straighten her slumped posture as she rode into the royal compound late in the afternoon. Dropping the horse off at the stables, she strode to the throne room to report back to Nia. After that, she planned to take another long nap. Maybe find some alcohol to help her sleep. Or a warm body, if she could muster the energy for that.

Queen Nia was standing by one of the windows, looking out over the compound as Echo entered the room. She didn’t turn at the sound of the door, or Echo’s footsteps. Echo didn’t think much of it at the time, approaching and dropping to one knee the same way she would were Nia on the throne. “The deed is done, my queen,” she reported. Nia stiffened a little at the sound of her voice, but didn’t respond. Unsure what else to say, Echo continued, “It… had the intended effect.”

“I know.” Finally, Nia turned around. Spotting tears in her queen’s eyes, Echo squinted in surprise and concern. She was about to ask what was wrong when Nia’s body tensed to make a move. Echo sensed the hand coming but suppressed the urge to block it, allowing Nia’s palm to slap her clear across the face. The force of the blow caught her off guard, knocking her over. Eyes blurring and cheek stinging, Echo looked up in disbelief from where she was sprawled on the floor. The queen had never struck her before, not with her own hands. It wasn’t her style. The blow felt deeply personal. And it was. “Lexa’s riders beat you here,” seethed Nia. “I’ve lost my son because of you.”

Eyes widening, Echo swallowed and pushed herself up on her palms. “They killed Roan?” Getting no response, she tried again as she regained her kneeling position with a wince. “Toro?”

“Did I say anyone died?” growled Nia. “The princes are alive, no thanks to you.”

The proposed alliance they had been concerned about was actually against the Mountain Men, the queen explained. Because the Reapers had started to encroach on other clans’ territories in the past several years, Trikru could finally enlist their help in the fight. The Ice Nation hadn’t been involved in the conversations early because Lexa first had to convince several of the other clans to agree to work with them and trust Queen Nia - a monumental task. Azgeda was still welcome to join the alliance, but given the atrocity they had just committed, now there would be consequences. In exchange for Azgeda’s inclusion in the alliance, Lexa was demanding that Costia’s captor be banished. That Roan be banished.

“And you agreed?” Echo asked with a gaping mouth. Roan was Nia’s pride and joy, though Echo doubted he realized that. Whether or not Nia loved him was debatable - really, whether she loved anything other than power was debatable - but she valued him in a way that Echo envied. Roan wasn’t disposable to Nia. Echo was.

“Would you have us fight the rest of the clans by ourselves?” snapped Nia. “What we did to Costia was an act of war. If we don’t join the alliance, we will be at war, with all of them.”

Echo had to close her eyes so the queen wouldn’t see how hard they were rolling. “I believe I mentioned that in the prison.”

Nia took a step closer, forcing Echo to crane her neck further to meet her gaze. “You aren’t so blameless, Guardian. If you hadn’t told us about Costia, none of this would have happened.”

Mouth almost dropping open at the idiocy of this argument, Echo steadily answered, “My apologies, my queen. I was only doing my job.”

“Horse shit. You gave me Costia because you were afraid of reporting back empty-handed.” The rumblings of guilt that statement set off in Echo’s stomach turned into a shockwave when Queen Nia added, “And now Roan is paying the price for your cowardice.”

“My reasons aside, it was useful information,” growled Echo. Heat rose in her cheeks and burned her eyes as her volume swelled. “Had we just captured her, we could have claimed a misunderstanding and given her back with fewer consequences.” She was all but yelling by the time she spat out, “It was not my idea to torture Lexa’s girlfriend and deliver her head with our mark carved into it.”

Nia slowly, deliberately lowered herself into a crouch in front of Echo, forcing her to look her in the eyes from inches away. It was even more intimidating than Nia towering over her. “Are you saying this is my fault?”

It was absolutely a stupid move to say what she said next, but in that moment Echo took more pride in being brave than being smart. She was no coward. “Yes,” she hissed right in Nia’s face.

Nia’s hand snapped out again, this time grabbing her by the collar. Pulling Echo up with her as she stood, Nia thrust the hand into her chest and sent her stumbling back a couple steps. “Get out of my sight,” she ordered Echo with a dismissive wave as she turned back to the window.

Echo should have been relieved to escape the room relatively unscathed, but those words hurt as much as anything the guards could have done to her. The way Nia said it didn’t just sound like disappointment, it sounded like pure revulsion. Echo’s eyes stung as she marched to Roan’s quarters, hoping to catch him before he left. Her heart dropped into her stomach when she came close enough to see his door was open, and she hustled closer to confirm what she feared. But when she made it inside she found Roan standing beside the bed, stuffing an array of clothing into a bag.

Hearing her footsteps and how they suddenly stopped, Roan looked over in time to see Echo heave a sigh of relief and rest her hands on her knees as she caught her breath. Averting his eyes to the bed, he continued to pack. “Someone needs to get a faster horse,” he remarked dryly.

Too on edge to appreciate the attempt at humor, or whatever that was, Echo crept closer to the bed. “Roan. I’m so sorry.”

Roan shook his head with what she feared was disappointment. But what he said was, “This isn’t your fault, Echo. It’s my mother’s fault.”

“I told her about Costia,” mumbled Echo. “I didn’t have to.”

“You were trying to be helpful.”

“I was trying to save myself,” she confessed to the floor.

“That isn’t your fault either,” parried Roan. Echo blinked up in surprise, locking onto his knowing eyes. “I’ve thought about leaving lots of times. If not for my duty to my people, I probably would have.” Turning back to the bag, he said, “Now I don’t have to worry about that.”

Gulping down the growing lump in her throat, Echo asked, “Where will you go?”

“Far west. Past the Plains Riders.” With a shrug, he mused, “I could try joining Luna’s new kru, but if they’re in the alliance even they might turn me in.”

Echo forced a smile. “You wouldn’t fit in so well with a pacifist clan anyway.”

Roan paused and caught her eye, a small smile creeping onto his lips as well. “You’re right. I wouldn’t.”

Stepping up beside him, Echo shoved her hands in her pants pockets and admitted, “I don’t know who I’ll spar with now. You’re the only swordsman around who’s my equal.”

“Equal?” snorted Roan. “You wish.” They shared one more smile, but his faded quickly. “I need to finish packing.”

That declaration was a gut punch, but Echo adopted a neutral expression. Roan got to see his training paying off one last time, whether he knew it or not. Bowing her head, she stepped back. “I’ll leave you alone.”

“Wait,” said Roan before she could fully turn away. Already a mere arm’s length from Echo, he came closer and pulled her into a loose hug. Eyes bulging in surprise, she returned the embrace stiffly, trying not to let emotion overtake her as Roan gave her a couple fraternal pats on the back. “You’re going to be okay,” he told her in Trig. “Stay strong.”

Echo’s burning eyes suddenly produced tears. They pushed their way out with a shuddering sigh, rolling down her cheeks and falling to the floor as she nodded. Roan definitely saw them as he pulled away from her, but he had enough grace not to react and deepen her embarrassment. The display of weakness would have been even more humiliating were he still her future king. Still, Echo snuffled back the phlegm and wiped the tears away with her shirtsleeve, refusing to break down. Swallowing to steady her voice, she extended an arm to give him the warrior’s handshake. “Good luck, Roan.”

Roan firmly grasped her forearm and said what she couldn’t. “Goodbye, Echo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I anticipate adding two more chapters: one about Mount Weather (with some bonus pre-Becho) and one starting after 3x03 (including Roan and Echo's reunion). I'll try to get them up before season 5 starts and all my backstory theories potentially get shot to shit. :P


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